


Compositions

by Lint



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lint/pseuds/Lint
Summary: Handful of drabbles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr.

**too good, too smart**

 (post Medusa)

 

She's starting to notice the displacement of air when she arrives, hairs on the back of her neck rising with it, the faint whoosh before Supergirl's feet hit the balcony. The smile is instantaneous, still tapping away at the tablet forever glued to her hand, as she spins to meet her visitor.

 

“Twice in one day,” she says, willing herself not to react at using her mother's own words. “I'm starting to think I've become habit forming.”

 

Color creeps into Supergirl's cheeks, and Lena takes small pride in the fact that she can make a Kryptonian blush, something Lex no doubt would have failed miserably at.

 

“I came to thank you,” Supergirl informs, her voice dropping an octave or two, trying hard to sound authoritative. “For switching the isotope and saving all the aliens. I know that couldn't have been easy for you.”

 

Lena looks down to her tablet, if only for a momentary distraction, before setting it down on her desk.

 

“Actually,” she begins. “It was surprisingly easy.”

 

Supergirl's eyes widen.

 

“Mom and I, we didn't exactly see eye to eye on this. On so many things. Besides, Lex was always her favorite, and she never tried to hide that fact.”

 

“I'm sure she loved you,” Supergirl insists.

 

Lena bits her lip. So earnest. It's as infuriating as it is endearing. She's tempted to reach out and pinch those ruddy cheeks, curious as to how someone so worldly as a superhero could be that painstakingly naive.

 

“Assurance of a mother's love is one thing,” Lena continues. “Acceptance of her attempted genocide is another entirely.”

 

Their eyes do not break from each other.

 

“I couldn't let her do it.”

 

“No,” agrees Supergirl. “You couldn't. Like I told you, you're better than that.”

 

“Than them,” Lena fills in.

 

“Yes.”

 

Lena takes a step forward, suddenly feeling bold. “You came to thank me?”

 

The blush flushes deeper.

“I did. Yes. Thank you. Uh, for doing the right thing.”

 

Lena takes another step.

 

“I think you can do a little better than that.”

 

Supergirl's eyes go wide again.

 

“Better than-”

 

This kiss is met with slight resistance, poor innocent Kryptonian girl probably never fathomed the possibility, but much to Lena's surprise she doesn't pull away. So she dares to deepen the kiss, and again Supergirl doesn't resist. She's sweet like strawberries, bright as sunshine, and something else she can't quite put a finger on.

 

“Forgive me,” Lean says pulling back. “But I have been wanting to do that ever since-”

 

“It's okay,” says Supergirl, looking down at her boots and fighting a smile, arms fidgeting and unable to stay still. “I mean. It's, no it's fine.”

 

Lena finally reaches out to those crimson cheeks, offering a small caress instead of a pinch, and gives the hero an out.

 

“I'm sure you have more pressing issues to attend to?”

 

Supergirl's eyes dart to the window and back.

 

“Off you go then,” Lena offers with a smile. “I'll be here should you feel inclined for another visit.”

 

She stands with hands clasped behind her back, as the costumed girl slowly backs out of her office toward the balcony, offering a small wave before up, up, and away.

 

Lena sighs with satisfaction, before retrieving her tablet once again.

 

/\/\/\

 

**clean sheets**

 

The clock on the wall informs her it's three in the morning. The city is oddly quiet this high up, aided by large soundproof glass, even to her. She's been staring at one of her shoes resting on its side, perched in front of an expensive looking dresser, for nearly thirty minutes. Knowing she should have left hours ago, work in the morning, a small voice in the back of her mind keeps telling her to stay.

 

A voice she's trying to ignore, even though her body enjoys the feel of lavish bed sheets, the sensation of Lena's arm wrapped possessively around her hip.

 

“What are you doing?” she asks herself internally.

 

An answer doesn't make itself known, not that she expected it would, the question repeating in time with the hand on the clock ticking away the seconds. She could be gone in the blink of an eye, before Lena's hand would even fall to the mattress, all she has to do is...

A kiss is suddenly pressed into her shoulder, eyes instantly falling shut with a warm sensation spreading from the point of contact.

 

“Penny for your thoughts,” is whispered into her skin.

 

“How many do you have?” she replies quietly. “More than a handful?”

 

Lena laughs against her, the arm across Kara's hip used at leverage to shift closer, lips hovering just above the blonde's ear.

 

“As many as you wish.”

 

Kara's hand clutches at the sheets, toes curling with resistance, if she turns to face Lena she knows she'll never leave. So she keeps her eyes forward, fixated on that stray shoe, but does not pull her hand away when Lena's fingers entwine with hers.

 

“I hope you don't regret-”

 

“No,” Kara is quick to deny. “I-I don't. It's just that, I mean I-”

 

“Are rarely impulsive,” Lena finishes. “Especially when jumping into bed with someone.”

 

Kara nods.

 

“It's safe to assume you've never had a one night stand,” Lena goes on. “Though forgive me in wishing that's not all this was.”

 

“It isn't.”

 

Lena hums against against Kara's skin, pleased.

 

“And yet you've been lying here for the better part of an hour trying to figure out how to sneak off into the night, as the protocol of such a tryst would dictate.”

 

Kara flushes crimson, glad their positioning and the cover of darkness keeps Lena from seeing the embarrassment spread across her face.

 

“I'm sorry,” she offers.

 

Lena laughs again.

 

“Don't be,” she assures. “If you have to run, I won't keep you, but I'd much prefer it if you stayed.”

 

Something about the way she says it, with an earnest sort of longing, causes Kara to roll to her side so that they're finally face to face. Lena doesn't hesitate a moment before kissing her, and Kara wonders if the butterflies in her stomach will ever stop fluttering every time she does.

 

“I wanted you the moment we met,” Lena murmurs in confession.

 

“Did you?” Kara inquires.

 

Lena nods.

 

“I thought, who's this adorable little sunflower walking into my office? If it wasn't for your companion, I might have asked you out then.”

 

Kara's eyes dart to her lips and back.

 

“I don't know if I would have said yes.”

 

Lena's smile shines through the dark.

 

“Doesn't matter.”

 

“No?”

 

Lena kisses her again.

 

“Got you anyway, didn't I?”

 

/\/\/\

 

**silly girl**

 

“What about this?” Kara asks, emphatically waving a hand between them. “Makes you think your happiness is not a priority?”

 

There are tears welling in her eyes, but Kara refuses to remove her glasses to wipe them away. Lena stands a few feet from her with arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

 

“Is it me? D-did I do something wrong?”

 

Lena takes one step closer, heels causing a sharp click against the hardwood floor, arms unfolding and falling to her side.

 

“It's not about happiness,” Lena replies coolly. “It's about honesty.”

 

Kara's mouth drops in surprised.

 

“I have never lied to you.”

 

“And I believe that,” Lena assures. “But still, you keep things from me.”

 

Kara throws her hands toward the ceiling in exasperation.

 

“Because I'm a person!” She shouts. “People have secrets!”

 

Person, Lena notes. A specifically neutral word. Whereas the typical vernacular in this situation would call for someone to defend themselves as simply being human, Kara chooses otherwise. It shouldn't be surprising, she having picked up on such things lately, ever since waking up in the middle of the night to see Kara sleeping peacefully next to her and being struck with a startling revelation.

 

“True,” Lena concedes with another step, another click. “But yours carry so much more weight, don't they?”

 

Kara's eyes widen, though her mouth draws into an angry line.

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

One last step, one last click.

 

“There,” Lena says with a boop on an indignant flaring nose. “Your first lie.”

 

A single tear falls down Kara's cheek.

 

“Where is this coming from?” She asks somberly. “Why are you being like this?”

 

One of Lena's hands lifts to Kara's shirt, idly playing with a button, the other to her hair wrapped nearly in a bun.

 

“It's a rare sight to see you with your hair down,” Lena begins. “About as rare as seeing you without your glasses.”

 

“I need them to-”

 

“That's two. Your vision is perfect, silly girl. Though I suppose they do serve a purpose.”

 

The hand on Kara's shirt pops the button open, and suddenly Lena's wrists are held at bay with a strength such lithe appendages shouldn't possess.

 

“Without them you look just like her,” Lena goes on. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

 

Kara drops Lena's wrists, her own arms falling to her sides.

 

“You're asking a question,” Kara offers sagely. “When it sounds like you already know the answer.”

 

Lena opens another button, eyes meeting Kara's whose shine back defiantly, and goes for the next. Blue hidden beneath white with black polka dots, pulls away her focus, followed by red and yellow forming a recognizable symbol. Though she had no doubt that night, falling asleep cuddled up to Kara and waking up next to Supergirl, the costume concealed below the street clothes is proof positive.

 

“Would you have told me?” Lena asks.

 

“I don't know,” Kara confesses. “But I wish you finding out didn't feel so awful.”

 

It hits Lena then, how cold she's been. How calculating. The Luthor way she'd been adopted into and has spent most of her life trying to fight, slithering to the surface the second she felt she'd been made the fool.

 

“Oh god,” she laments quickly. “I'm so-Kara, I'm so sorry.”

 

Tears sting her eyes, though she knows they will not fall.

 

Kara offers no condolence, but she does not push Lena from her, nor does she pull away.

 

/\/\/\

 

**Auld Lang Syne**

 

“If you're going to continue to use my balcony as your own private entrance,” Lena calls over her shoulder. “At least remember to close the door when there's a draft.”

 

Shutting the aforementioned door, Lena glances back to Kara, standing in the middle of her office with arms crossed.

 

“I thought we had an agreement,” she says, trying so very much to look serious. “No more holidays alone at your desk.”

 

Lena's left brow lifts curiously, absently hugging the tablet to her chest.

 

“Well I was at a party,” she replies. “Lavish affair, with a beautiful date on my arm, but duty called her away.”

 

Kara's arms drop to her sides.

 

“I said I was coming back,” she defends. “I did come back, but you were already gone.”

 

Lana looks to her tablet's blank screen, if only for a momentary distraction.

 

“I didn't expect you to,” she admits. “Forgive me, but whenever the need for you to don your costume comes around, I usually don't see you again until the next day.”

 

Kara's serious face fades a bit, a small smile starting to pull at her lips.

 

“I may have hurried.”

 

Lena turns to set her tablet down on the desk, hiding her own urge to return the smile.

 

“I may have been impatient.”

 

Kara steps toward her, quickly glancing out the window and back.

 

“Can we put a pause on this argument?” she asks.

 

Lena's face pinches in confusion.

 

“A disagreement maybe. A misunderstanding, surely. But I'd hardly call this an argument.”

 

Kara's hands move to Lena's hips, goosebumps arising at the contact.

 

“Whatever it is,” she begins, eyes dropping to her hands. “Pause?”

 

“Alright,” Lena agrees. “But I don't understa-”

 

“It's almost midnight,” Kara fills in. “And I don't want to kiss when we're fighting, disagreeing, whatever.”

 

“Ah,” Lena says, it dawning on her. “The midnight kiss.”

 

“Don't want to start a new year in a bad way, you know?” Kara offers, lifting one hand to Lena's chin, gaze focused intently on her girlfriend's lips.

 

“Well,” Lena concedes with a sigh. “Surely we can't have that.”

 

Fireworks boom in the distance, the clock striking twelve, and Kara doesn't hesitate to claim Lena's mouth with her own. One arm slips from Lena's hip to the small of her back, the other lifting to slide her fingers through raven colored strands.

 

Lena's head nearly spins, Kara never having taken such initiative with her desires, her breath very nearly stolen as the kiss intensifies. The moment stretches on, Lena's own hands moving to cup Kara's face between them, losing herself in affection until she finally pulls away gasping.

 

“Quite intent on doing that, weren't you?” She asks once her focus returns, their faces mere inches apart.

 

Kara blushes and averts her eyes.

 

“You're my first,” she confesses.

 

“First?”

 

“New year's kiss. I've never, I mean I was never dating anyone around this time of year, so maybe I kind of made a big deal about it in my head. It was one of those little moments I never got to have and I just-”

 

Lena cuts her off with another kiss.

 

“I hope I lived up to that moment.”

 

“Yeah,” Kara replies, smiling. “Oh yeah.”

 

Lena kisses her once more.

 

“Happy new year, darling.”

 

/\/\/\

 

**seeing red**

 

The flash of lightning outside the window snaps Lena's attention quickly toward it, automatically counting the time until the thunder booms, twelve both in seconds and how many steps it takes her to reach the bottle of wine left to breathe on the counter. One hand pours a considerable amount into one of the larger goblets from the cupboard, while the other works out a few kinks in her neck. It has been a day, she muses, and wants nothing more than to drink this red until the ache dulls, and watch the storm rage from the safety of her sofa.

 

Three more flickers of electricity streak across the sky, in the time it takes her to drink the goblet down, and she eyes the bottle still in the kitchen with ire not wanting to leave such a comfortable position. A particularly loud thunderclap rattles the windows, causing a startled gasp and loss of equilibrium, as she falls ungracefully to the floor but somehow manages not to break the glass.

 

She laughs softly to herself, wondering if the growing stress of running a multinational conglomerate, has somehow lessened her tolerance for alcohol. Rising to her feet, she grabs the goblet from the ground, and makes way for a refill. Another flash, another boom, nearly on top of each other. She seriously considers forgetting the glass and going straight from the bottle, when a knock on the door distracts her from the thought.

 

Glancing quickly to the phone that hadn't rung, the doorman's primary job to inform anyone in the building of visitors, she focuses back to the door with worries of another attempt on her life.

 

“I know you're there,” a familiar voice calls from the other side.

 

Lena's brows furrow, though an odd feeling pings in her chest, moving to the door and welcoming her unexpected guest.

 

“Kara,” she says, trying in vain to keep the surprise from her voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

The smile she receives for the question is almost predatory, inebriated senses fighting for focus, as her friend slips silently past her and into the living room.

 

“Is something wrong?” Lena can't help but ask.

 

Kara remains oddly quiet, which only causes Lena's curiosity to reach further for reasons to her presence.

 

“No,” she finally replies after an achingly long pause. “Not every one of our meetings has the weight of a social crises tugged along for the ride.”

 

Lena's brow furrows again, the tone at which the sentence is delivered a strangely sharp contrast to Kara's normally bubbled way of speaking.

 

“No?” Lena echoes. “Then tell me what could be so important that you show up at my doorstep, in the pouring rain no less, at this hour?”

 

There it is again, that predatory smile, and Lena feels the hairs on the back of her strained neck suddenly rise. Kara's heels click on the hardwood floor, Lena not so drunk that she doesn't notice a five hundred dollar pair of Louboutin's, and wonders how a cub reporter could afford such luxuries.

 

“You're the genius,” Kara offers, tone tinged with challenge. “I think you can figure it out.”

 

She's not wearing her glasses.

 

Lena almost laughs at herself, that she could notice expensive footwear, but not a visual necessity she's never seen Kara without. It's also a trick of the light, she tells herself, the way the lightning flashes across her eyes making them look almost crimson.

 

“I'm afraid you caught me at a disadvantage,” Lena replies, crossing her arms if only to keep them from reaching for her. “It's late, I'm exhausted, and honestly a little tipsy.”

 

Kara's head tilts in amusement, stopping close enough to Lena that she can she can smell the wine on her lips, something she's not hesitant to reach up and tease with her thumb.

 

“I can see that,” she begins. “Good vintage?”

 

Lena's heart skips a beat or two at the sudden proximity, the shift in Kara's demeanor as sharp as the shoes on her feet, the disadvantage she confessed to moments ago so achingly more than social.

 

“C-casa Marmont,” she stutters. “1945.”

 

Kara pulls her thumb to her own mouth, tasting what she can from Lena's.

 

“Sounds expensive.”

 

Lena's eyes fall closed.

 

“Yes.”

 

Kara pulls away, heels clicking toward the kitchen, leaving Lena to let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Watching as Kara pours herself a glass, her feet suddenly remember how to walk, joining her guest for a fresh round.

 

“Sweet,” Kara comments after the first taste.

 

Like you, Lena thinks. Only to realize by the sudden focus of Kara's gaze that she'd uttered the thought aloud, and takes a long pull from her goblet to keep anything else from slipping out.

 

“So,” Kara starts, swirling the wine in her glass. “How long have you wanted me?”

 

It's the alcohol, Lena tells herself. The stressful day, and late hour, storm raging outside her windows that causes the truth to so easily leap from her tongue.

 

“Since the day we met,” she says in all sincerity.

 

This new Kara, this sharp angled dagger pointed Kara, is most pleased by her answer.

 

“But you did nothing.”

 

“I didn't think-”

 

“That I was interested?”

 

“No, I-”

 

“Oh but you must have suspected something,” Kara offers with that tiger smile. “All those excuses to see you? Favors only you could provide?”

 

The ping in Lena's chest grows to a flutter, schoolgirl crushes and longing aside, she never once thought that such things could be reciprocated. That she knows a straight girl when she sees one, and despite this sudden polarity shift in personality, deep down it's what Kara is. Isn't she?

 

“You're different tonight,” Lena says, eyes focused down to her glass. “How do I know come tomorrow you won't fall back to the same?”

 

“You don't.” Kara sets her glass on the counter. “But here's the thing, if it means you get to have me, I don't think you care.”

 

The glass is taken from Lena's hand, chin tilted up to meet Kara's eyes, lightning flashing once more and all Lena can see is red.

 

Red wine. Red lips. Red eyes.

 

When Kara kisses her, the truth is as sweet as the mouth pressed against hers. She doesn't care what happens tomorrow. If it means having Kara in her arms tonight, she doesn't care at all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**between two lungs**

-

Supergirl is perched on the end of her desk, legs swinging idly back and forth, playing with the top of her boots in a way that keeps catching Lena's attention from the corner of her eye. She's supposed to be finishing this report. She's supposed to be concentrating. She's not supposed to be thinking of those boots crossed at the small of her back and...

 

“What?” she says suddenly.

 

“Hmm?” Supergirl replies, attention turned Lena's way.

 

“Oh, I thought you said something.”

 

Supergirl smiles like sunshine, ruby lips that Lena is most definitely not thinking of smearing with her own, should this suddenly unimportant document ever get finished.

 

“Nope,” Supergirl denies. “Just sitting here. Waiting patiently.”

 

Lena mirrors the smile as best she can, sunshine not coming naturally to her.

 

“Forgive me,” Lena sighs, “I just-”

 

“Take your time,” Supergirl insists. “I'm not going anywhere.” She looks out the windows. “Well, unless, you know I have to-”

 

“Save the world?” Lena finishes.

 

That smile again. God, how is she supposed to get her work done?

 

“Exactly.”

 

Lena looks back to her screen. Statistics from R&D's latest round of tests, coupled with projected profit margins should the product ever get off the ground, and Supergirl is playing with her boots again. Her eyes close momentarily, an attempt for all detracting thoughts to be pushed away through sheer force of mind, but all it does is wander.

 

Like how she can't fathom referring to Kara as anything but Supergirl, when wearing her costume, because a small part of her still refuses to grasp that they are one in the same. Even if she possesses the contrary knowledge, the thought of doing so flies out the window as deftly as she does.

 

Tug, tug, tug those boots. Lena's toes curl inside her heels, dropping her tablet to the desk, as Supergirl's attention snaps toward her.

 

“That doesn't sound like you're finished.”

 

“Far from it,” Lena replies, the heels of her hands lifting to both temples, before smoothing along the top of her head and coming to rest on the back of the neck.

 

“I can go,” Supergirl offers, pointing toward the door. “Come back when the work's done?”

 

Lena reaches toward her lightning quick, palm coming to rest on Supergirl's thigh, something that lifts the hero's eyebrow.

 

“Don't you dare,” she retorts, pushing back and rising from her chair, Supergirl's eyes following all the way. Lena's left hand shifts to Supergirl's right thigh, her right resting atop the left, wedging them open just enough to slip between.

 

“You,” Lena begins, fingers gently running down to the edge of Supergirl's boots, before teasing their way back up. “Are very distracting.”

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“Mmm,” Lena hums, hands moving to pinch the ends of Supergirl's skirt. “You don't sound very sorry.”

 

Their eyes meet, color flushing Supergirl's cheeks as she bites her lip.

 

“Because I'm not,” she admits.

 

Lena grins wickedly.

 

“Is that so?”

 

Supergirl merely nods.

 

“Do you know how often I sit in this chair?” Lena asks. “Trying to concentrate on my work and not think of you, in this very position, just begging me to kiss you?”

 

That smile comes back, but Lena can't compare it to sunshine now.

 

“About as I often as I do,” Supergirl replies. “Flying around this city, trying not to drop in on you every five minutes because I all I can think about is...”

 

She leans forward but Lena backs away in a tease, repeats on a second attempt.

 

“Lena,” Supergirl implores in a hush. “Do I really have to beg?”

 

/\

 

**twistdmentality asked: Give me Kara hating tabloids. Not because she is an up and coming journalist and believes in the credibility and integrity of the news but because she gets pouty over the rumors that Lena is dating Supergirl.**

-

Lena peers over the top of her tablet, not for the first time, at the sight of Kara sitting on the couch in her office mumbling into a newspaper. It seems with every turn of the page, her grumbling gets a little louder, as she consistently shakes her head and scoffs.

 

“Not good news?” she asks at the third guffaw.

 

“News?” Kara replies. “This rag? I don't think so.”

 

Lena sets the tablet down, rising from her chair, and wanders over to the couch where she seats herself next to Kara.

 

“Then what is it?” she inquires. “That's got you so upset?”

 

Kara holds up the paper for her to see, a copy of Hush Hush, National City's locally owned scandal rag. Lena's eyes immediately focus on Supergirl gracing the cover, and is a little taken aback to see her own face placed right next to the costumed hero.

 

 _A Super and a Luthor?_ Reads the headline. _Does National City's newest CEO have a little something on the side with its very own hero?_

 

“Kara, why did you buy this?”

 

She fidgets with her glasses instead of answering, cheeks flushing red, then quickly whips the paper closed before tossing it on the table in front of them.

 

“A super and a Luthor,” Kara replies. “You said that once, so standing at the checkout, that headline caught my eye.”

 

“I'm guessing,” Lena begins, nodding her head toward paper. “That it's not a particularly flattering expose.”

 

Kara shakes her head.

 

“Just rumors. Seedy, fact less, made up gossip.”

 

“About Supergirl?”

 

“About you and Supergirl.”

 

Lena can't help but laugh softly at that.

 

“What about me and Supergirl?”

 

Kara glares at the cover with a pout.

 

“To paraphrase? With all the frequent late night visits you get from the city's favorite Kryptonian, you two must be schtupping.”

 

Lena's laugh is a bit more clear at that.

 

“Sweetheart, that part is true.”

 

Kara's pout intensifies.

 

“You're dating me,” she says in a clipped tone. “Not her.”

 

Lena's hand reaches out, resting on Kara's knee, who does not shake it off. As with anything, Lena carefully plans her words, even if she's truly confused as to why Kara would be so upset and some tabloid sensationalism.

 

“Are you not one in the same?”

 

Kara's hand moves to rest atop Lena's.

 

“Supergirl is a persona, not a person,” Kara answers. “A costume I put on, with a name I didn't choose. When I come here as her, we're not affectionate, have you ever noticed that?”

 

Lena has, but to be honest, whenever Supergirl flies onto her balcony it's usually on the tail end of some crisis. They have a plan to create, or work to do. There may be a lingering hold of their hands before she parts, or maybe a blown kiss or two, but Kara is right. They have yet to share affection when she's in costume.

 

“I suppose I have,” she admits. “But I guess I've never really thought about it in great detail.”

 

Kara nods.

 

“I'm not totally sure I did it on purpose. I guess, when it comes to us, I want you to love me for me. Kara, me. Not Supergirl, me. So when some rag says you've clearly got a thing with her, I... Had a reaction.”

 

Lena scoots closer, wrapping an arm around Kara's shoulders, pulling so that her head rests gently in the crook of her neck.

 

“I had no idea you felt this way.”

 

“Yeah,” Kara begins with a cluck of her tongue. “I might have some issues with the whole secret identity thing. I really haven't been doing it that long. Or have seriously dated anyone while saving the world on a regular basis.”

 

Lena places a kiss atop Kara's head.

 

“I think you're doing just fine.”

 

For a moment they simply enjoy each others embrace.

 

“I do love you for you,” Lena says after awhile. “But you'll forgive me for thinking that meant every part of you. Kara Danvers. Kara Zor-El. Supergirl. I am ridiculously, foolishly, in love with each and every one.”

 

Kara suddenly snorts, embarrassed.

 

“Well, when you say it like that I feel extra crazy pants.”

 

“You should,” Lena teases. “Because the legitimate reporters of this city are well aware I'm dating an intrepid upcoming one of their own. But those of a lower moral fabric, just might find a Luthor and a Super schtupping as you so eloquently put it, far more newsworthy.”

 

“Not news,” Kara mumbles.

 

“No darling,” Lena concedes. “Of course not.”

 

 


End file.
